#fanficblr

[k9effect]

Reblog for a larger sample size!

No "show results", if you're not a fanfic writer just be patient.

I saw a post about an anon saying it was embarrasing to have an ao3 account in your 30s (it's absolutely not), so I want to do a poll and see what the age range actually is.

#sam polls #fanfic #ao3 #fanfiction #fan fic #fan fiction #writing #authors #writblr #fanficblr #wattpad #quotev #live journal #fanfic.net

[sanyu-thewitch05]

Now how am I going to read my nightly bedtime(borderline smut) fics?

Edit: Oh thank God, it’s back up!

#ao3 #ao3 down #ao3 memes #sanyuthewitch05 #like I was so excited to check my history and read the comments on the chat gpt produced fic #fanficblr

[bunn-iiii]

I'm so bored. *stares at multiple unfinished fanfics then quickly looks away* Gods, if only there was something to cure this never ending boredom.

#fanfic writer #writerblr #they have been sitting in drafts for a while now and no i will not wrote more #I'm just to bored to write #writer problems #fanfiction #fanficblr #relatable shit #text post

[skyrim-forever]

#fanfic #fanficition #writing #writing fanfic #writerblr #fanficblr #just fanfic things #silly tropes #skyrim fanfic #skyrim fanfiction #fanfic meme #meme #writing meme

[misspaddockverse]

Half of My Soul (as the poets say)

(Daniel Ricciardo/OFC, 138k words, complete)

Daniel stared at the plant vase. He couldn't recall the moment it appeared on their varanda but he was sure it wasn't there the last time he checked. When was it the last time he went to varanda again? Oh. Forget it. It was just an ordinary plant vase. He supposed he could ask Eleonor about it. But that gave him a bitter feeling in the pit of his stomach: since when were they so out of sync about their house disposition? That was probably just the tip of the iceberg, considering their respective careers, the education of their son and, of course, their marriage in a fucking stupid crisis.

Tags: Angst; Married Couple; Sexual Tension; Second Chances; Renault Driver Daniel Ricciardo; Daniel Ricciardo Leaves Red Bull; Daniel Ricciardo Appreciation; Formula 1 Season 2022; Domestic Fluff; Established Relationship; Author Is Sleep Deprived;

READ HERE

#I did it! I published on ao3! #go read and leave comments please! I’m excited to see what y’all think #daniel ricciardo fanfic #ao3 fanfic #f1blr #daniel ricciardo x ofc #f1 #formula 1 #daniel ricciardo #f1 fanfiction #f1 fanfic #renault daniel #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo x you #romanceprompts #fanfic #fanficblr #ao3

[mareenavee]

Nyenna ☼ & Teldryn ☾✩

First art of Nyenna and Teldryn for my fic, The World on Our Shoulders! Done by my friend, the most esteemed Painting.Roses on Insta.

#MareenaWrites #Nyenna #The World on Our Shoulders #Teldryn Sero #LDB/Teldryn Sero #Nyenna/Teldryn Sero #Nerevarine Teldryn Sero #painting.roses #Skyrim #Elder Scrolls #tesblr #fanficblr #writeblr #writblr #skyrim fic #skyrim fanart #teldryn sero art

[orfeoarte]

On Altmeri textiles...

Altmer culture is permeated by textiles. Textile art is the most prevalent form of Altmer Art outside of Summerset, and it includes tapestries; utilitary textiles like rugs, bedcovers, dividers and elaborate shawls; its main forms are plant fibers such as jute fiber, papires, wicker and cotton, insect fiber (less common than in Morrowind, obviously) like spidersilk and silkworm silk, and livestock fiber such as wool, and indrik fibers. Altmer have been inventive about where they get their fibers and so it is not uncommon to see fibers made from things that would possibly shock other folks considered the pinnacle of crafting prowess in the isles. A good tapestry artist can even dye sinew and incorporate it into their work, it is said. Much of their work is aided by magic or mechanisms like the spinning wheel, and they highly value vibrant pigments. The brighter the color, the higher the caste, and as such there have been color restrictions in place depending on one's station.

They prefer preciousness and detailed work to sturdy textiles due to the weather of the Isles, but Altmer outside Summerset are known to take pride in using their inherited techniques to make warm garments just as easily.

Light and semi-transparent fabrics are held in high esteem, and folding them to achieve brighter colors has led to layered yet cool outwear made of tulle similes and shining silks in the shapes of togas. In fact, much of their clothes are elaborate in their simplicity, since they consist of a single piece of fabric with minimal stitching, folded to taste and ancestral/family customs. Some families have their signature way of dressing, which can include patterns, ways of layering clothes, or even the fabric and its colors.

Adornments are highly valued and it's not unlikely to see an Altmer in brocaded clothes, laden with jewelry usually embellished with aetherquartz and culanda, as well as other more typical stones.

The fact that they're so traditional has led to tremendous technological leaps in the improvement of family techniques being often zealously guarded, and, as a result, certain textile artists are seen as artist-gods for their irreplicable work. Possession of one such garment or piece made by these lineages of masters is a sign of station and prestige

#tesblr #fanficblr #tes headcanons #altmer #worldbuilding #elder scrolls lore #my writing #my hcs #orfeoarte

[hedwig394]

I'm Not Yours

Derek Hale x Sarah McCall

Timeline: In S2E4, when Derek is training his betas, one of them tries to kiss him.

Derek's POV -

Isaac barrels towards me with a vicious look on his face. I stare at him, unfazed. Like that can scare me. He leaps at me but I push him out of the way effortlessly. Sure, the momentum makes it difficult, but not difficult enough.

Erica jumps at me from above and I toss her to the ground. She's no better. In fact, she's worse. Isaac at least has the mind to know that he isn't the best, but Erica is full of overconfidence. It's going to get her in trouble someday.

Boyd looks at from above, and cringes as both the betas fall to the ground. I know their bones are broken, they must be. Guilt creeps up my spine, but I shove it down. If I'm to teach them how to protect themselves, then they must sustain a few injuries.

"Does anyone wanna try not being completely predictable?" I ask with a frown.

It is then that Erica jumps at me. But she doesn't try to attack. Instead, she wraps her legs around my waist and presses her lips to mine. Eyes widening in shock, I push her away immediately.

"Don't ever do that again," I say, fury churning through my body. My eyes flash red and I see fear in hers, but I don't care.

I don't want to be kissed by anyone who isn't Sarah.

"Why?" She asks, scared, "Because I'm a Beta?"

"No." I say, "Because I'm Not Yours." I make sure to wipe my lips, just in case her lipstick has left a mark.

Isaac groans from beside her, uninterested in what just happened. "Are we done? I got about a hundred bones that need a few hours to heal."

I bend down in front of him and break his finger, "A hundred and one."

Isaac looks at me in shock and pain, and I hiss at him. "You think I'm teaching you to fight? Huh? Look at me! I'm teaching you how to survive! So if you don't wanna die, I suggest you take this seriously."

I stalk away from them and rush to my loft after putting my jacket on. I had promised to meet Sarah there, and I don't wanna be late. I don't want to miss even a single minute I have with her. Her brother thinks that it's just him who has to do a lot just to see his girlfriend, but he's wrong.

I have to do twice as much just to catch a glimpse of Sarah.

She waits at me at the loft, her long hair flowing behind her because of the wind.

"Angel..." I say. It's one of the few nicknames I have for her, another main one being 'honey'. She turns around and looks at me. Joy fills her eyes and she rushes towards me, throwing her arms around me. She doesn't care that I smell like tar and dirt, doesn't care that the dirt is all over my clothes and face.

I wrap my arms around her, breathing in the scent of her sweet-smelling hair. I kiss her cheek and all the emotions I've bottled down almost spill out. No, I can't let that happen. I have to stay strong for her.

She steps back and looks at me with tearful eyes. I pull her towards me and kiss her deeply, savouring the flavour and taste of her soft lips. She opens her mouth and I slip my tongue inside, exploring her mouth. She tastes like the sweet fruit at the end of countless hardships.

Sarah tastes like mine. There's not a lot I can call mine, but Sarah is mine. And I'll be damned to let anyone hurt her or take her away from me.

And the moan she gives makes me wanna carry her inside and show her just that.

But I have to keep the lust in control since I'd rather talk to her and hold her in my arms in those few stolen moments we have together than have sex with her.

I draw my head to let her catch her breath. I can go on for longer, werewolf lungs and all. But she's human. My human.

I caress her cheek gently and press a kiss to her forehead. "I've missed you, my Angel."

"I've missed you too, Sourwolf." She sniffs.

"Come on," I say, "Let's go inside."

She slips her hand in mine and we walk inside the loft. Sarah beams at the simple arrangement of the place and looks at me. "I've missed coming here."

"I know, I'm sorry," I say ruefully. The loft has not been the same without her. After we got together officially, Sarah used to hang out at the loft frequently. At one point, she was living with me. Those were the best days of my life. Just being with her, inside her and spending time in her presence gave me more happiness than anything else.

But then Gerard Argent showed up along with his pack of Hunters. I turned Isaac and Erica, and Sarah's brother started to hate me. I don't care, Scott's a child. He'll understand the ways of the world after growing up.

But unknowingly, that caused a rift between me and Sarah. It was too unsafe for her to be with me, with hunters prowling around and an unknown beast to add to the list. I know how low Gerard can sink, he can threaten and hurt Sarah just to get to me.

I once had a thought of breaking up with her for her own safety, but she had said to me "I'll carve your heart out with a scalpel and keep it as a prized possession if you ever do that." And that had led to a passionate make-out session.

"Derek..." Sarah's voice makes me look at her. But she isn't looking at me, she's staring at my jacket. "Why do you smell like women's perfume?"

Aah, that is Erica's fault. "Oh, it's nothing. I was going to tell you." I begin casually, but she looks anything but casual. Sarah's glaring at me like she never has before, and I gulp. "Angel, believe me, it's not what you think."

"Then what is it?" She hisses viciously, and at that moment, I can't help but admire how strong and confident she looks.

Right, back to the point.

I explain everything to her, starting from training to the point where Erica kissed me, and at the end, Sarah looks like she could commit first-degree murder. "I pushed her away immediately," I say, desperation clawing at my insides. Will she believe me?

Sarah glares at me. Then, she looks at her feet with a sigh. "Do you like her, Derek?"

"No!" I exclaim, aghast. "Honey, she's my beta, and she's also underage. I don't like her. I don't like anyone but you."

She doesn't look at me. "It's fine, Derek. If you don't like me anymore. I get it. It's been a hard couple of months. And I understand if you wanna be with me. Maybe a werewolf will be better for you."

"Sarah," I ball my hand into a fist. "Look at me."

She doesn't budge, and I gently lift her chin up. Her warm, chocolate eyes meet my werewolf red. She looks a bit frightened, and I wrap my arm around her, pulling her hard against me.

"Look at me, Angel." I growl, "You're the only one I like, the only one I want. So don't even think for a second that I'll look at anyone else the way I look at you."

"I'm sorry," She says and my eyes go back to the usual green. "It's been so hard recently, so I thought that you'd give up and...." She looks at me worriedly, "Start looking for someone else."

"Sarah," I say calmly, "It's been very hard, yes. But I'm not giving up on you. On us. It's you for me, Angel."

Sarah gives me a shaky smile, and I continue, "And as for Erica, I pushed her away immediately and warned her to not do that again. You know why?"

She looks at me expectantly and I kiss her softly. "Because I'm not hers, Angel. I'm yours."

#teen wolf #fanfic #fanfiction #derek hale #derek hale fanfic #derek hale fanfiction #teen wolf fanfiction #derek hale love #derek hale one shot #teen wolf fanfic #derek hale gifs #teen wolf fan fic #teen wolf imagines #teen wolf season 2 #teen wolf icons #derek hale x sarah mccall #soft derek hale #derek hale x reader #derek hale x oc #original female character #sarah mccall #teen wolf imagine #scott mccall #stiles stilinski #book tumblr #writers on tumblr #fanficblr

[gilgamish]

WIP Wednesday - Tides

Tagged by the wonderful: @thequeenofthewinter , @mareenavee , @dirty-bosmer , and @kookaburra1701 thank you friends

Tagging: @tallmatcha , @paraparadigm , @nuwanders , and all other mutuals. no pressure if people are not up to it this week. i didn't want to leave people out.

Summary: On the brink of losing his mind, Kaidan, trapped in the abandoned prison without currently no way out, discovers he has a new charge.

(it's some of chapter 1 from Kaidan's POV)

word count: 1.2k

cw: dissociation, aftermath of torture, and descriptions of terminal illness (tuberculosis)

The other man sagged to the floor, landing on his side, chest heaving. The catch of his breathing was strained, ragged, dying. Kaidan froze from where he watched, unbelieving. Now? Right now? The man convulsed with a painful jerk of his frame. Runny spittle leaked from his mouth onto the stones. Kaidan rasped out, “Why are you shaking? What’s wrong?” His own voice had never sounded so distant and weak.

The man’s flat, empty gaze landed on him. “Sick. Tired.”More spittle leaked out. His body gave another jerk, and he curled into a ball, shaking. He’s dying. His mind had outright refused to wrap around that word. He’s going to die. The glass bottle in his hands had grown warm; the surface was sticky from the blood on his hands. These were his hands, he decided. Flexing the motion in one sent sharp pains up his fingers. Right, his fingernails were gone. He repeated the motion, testing it out, but it still felt mechanical.

Small beads of blood trickled out from the wounds where the nails had been ripped out, one by painstaking one. It happened somewhere, that was all his mind could configure. To someone. A someone who might be you. Kaidan blinked that away. Maybe this was where it all fell apart and he would wake up again chained to that wall and then they would come in and they would have their tools and their questions and their gloved hands to grab his face and rip out chunks of his hair. You will tell me who sent you to intercept us. You will break. Kaidan blinked again. On the floor, there was the man, fighting for each gasp of air. He was likely to die. No, he was going to die. Kaidan grabbed the collar of his shirt, hissed at the sharp, bracing pain shooting from his fingertips, and dragged the man over.

“C’mon.” His bleeding hands smeared on the man’s neck and clothes as he pulled him into his arms. The man looked up at him, eyes glazed over. “You need one too.” Kaidan vaguely remembered the bottle in his other hand and brought it up for him to drink. The man didn’t take it, maybe too far gone. Pressing the bottle to his lips, Kaidan tipped the bottle back. A bright, vibrant red liquid poured out, and much of it slid past the man’s mouth, pooling at his neck, and what he swallowed, he choked on. Kaidan sucked in a sharp breath. His throat was raw, cracking with pain. “C’mon, you can do it. Please.” At that plea, the man covered his own mouth with a hand. A loud gulp. He slid out of Kaidan’s arms onto the floor and shut his eyes. Out of old habit, Kaidan rolled him onto his side.

A prudent decision, as not much later, the real sickness struck the other man. The convulsions and shakes were worse; he nearly drowned in his own vomit, and the fever that followed refused to break. Sweat cloaked his frame that got thinner and thinner by the day. The first night, Kaidan found himself consoling the man through the shakes, and thought of Marianne, the duke’s daughter that he had been sweet on for a summer and only a summer. She had taken him into her bed for the pure, creature comfort of having someone to hold her. Sometimes in an embrace, sometimes so she could sob into his chest. Her mother was dying, she had explained. Slowly. Her betrothed wouldn’t understand. But he could understand; he could speak to it.

One afternoon, Marianne led him by the hand into her mother’s drawing room. Sheer cloth drapes enclosed the room, the albumen concealing a quiet, soft world. Eloise had all of Marianne’s features, the scarlet fever ravaging her body only sharpened them to fine edge. It made her face elfin and angular, casting her skin in silver, and gave her lips a bluish tint. But when she greeted them, her words were watery and garbled. Upon greeting, Eloise had raised her hand to him, and he had taken it, marveling at how small and fragile she felt. Her fingertips turning blue, they reminded him of the delicate blown glass the merchants sold down in Sentinel, and how they sculpted, heated, contorted, dyed, and coaxed the glass into becoming rare flowers, birds, and glyphs. When they left to walk alongside the beach, Marianne tearfully confessed she found her mother more beautiful than herself, especially in that state, and she didn’t hold it against him when he agreed with her.

They agreed again on how macabre it was, to find beauty in something so terrible. Kaidan wasn’t sure when he started looking for beauty in places like this, or if he could find it anywhere else. Just as he found that beauty again in Rosalind, he found it again now.

Sleeping, the man’s face was flushed with color, hot to the touch. His cheekbones were sharp, and the hard line of his jaw and crest of his Imperial nose were more prominent. His was to be that of kings, of emperors, of saints, but but he didn’t have the stern, resigned face that marked those figures. His eyelashes were too long, fluttering when his eyes moved underneath their lids. Pulled away from his face, his hair pillowed his head.

Blond like Rosalind, he thought and just as quickly squashed the idea. It was a much richer shade and thick like an Altmer’s. The man turned in his sleep, body facing towards Kaidan now. Sighing a breath, his lips were slightly parted. Kaidan soaked the rag in cold water again and laid it across on his forehead, murmuring, “You’re going to live,” as he hung his own survival on the draw and catch of the other man’s breathing, treasuring each rise and fall of his chest. Kaidan wouldn’t remember how long he sat there next to the other man while his own wounds ached, the elixir slow to take effect, but he would remember the silence. And if there was one thing that could have truly broken him, it was that.

In the prison block, there was that familiar darkness, something that he would let close over his head and swallow him, like a fish swimming up to lap at the flies teeming above the water’s still surface, to drag him down into the depths. That was darkness. Smothering, merciful darkness that he hoped death would be like.

Silence was worse. It was Oblivion. It was gnawing absence that picked and picked away at his sanity. Insatiable. It was an obsidian knife to cut him open, to flay him, and to hollow him out, drawing every thought and every memory from him, laying them out bare before a cruel, scrutinizing sun. Eventually, there would be nothing left of him but a husk for the wind to carry off. That was silence. Fingers digging into each corner of his mind until it cracked open and fell apart.

But that hadn’t happened yet. There was the draw and catch of the other man’s breathing. Kaidan checked him over again. “You’re going to live,” he repeated the words softly, tantamount to a prayer. He didn’t trust himself to speak without his voice breaking. A dam broke; tears fell. The universe had granted him another opportunity at life, and that providence had arrived in the form of the other man. Kaidan wrapped himself around that idea so tightly: If this strange man lived, if Kaidan could keep him alive and protect him, then maybe, it would be alright for him to live too. He clung to it.

He had to.

totally normal amount of devotion and adjustment i'm sure.

if u got this far,,,, thank u

#wip wednesday #tes fic #kaidan skyrim #it's still wednesday i swear #skyrim fic #skyrim fanfiction #fanficblr #tesblr #oc: felix

[cedricsnotdead]

I don’t have a prompt but I was curious to ask you this, do you ever read your fics again? I mean not for proofreading but just for fun?

Another ask! Thanks for this, anon, apparently yall understood that I love to ramble about fanfiction in general hehe :D

The answer is YES, ALL THE TIME

And I'm not the only one who does it - I found out in fanfic writer communities that a major part of writers rereads their fics outside of proofreading and editing, just for the fun of it (it's also more difficult to enjoy the fun part of reading the story when you're proofreading or editing).

It's not because I'm arrogant and I reread my stuff to pat myself on the shoulder (though sometimes I come across a passage I'm very proud of and I'm like "yeah that still feels like a good one") - it's because like most fanfic writers do, I write primarily for myself and I'm my target audience, I'm the one who wants to see that stuff happening on the page, and so my own fanfiction is a bit like my comfort read, where everything happens in the way I want to.

It's not really like this for all my writing - the older pieces I wrote before Ink and Blood (like the first version of 20 years later and previous drafts of this and other stories) are a bit painful for me to read because my writing and my English have changed - I think in positive - so if I open those stories I don't feel that sense of comfort read as I do with the more recent ones. That's perhaps why it's taking me so long to complete the rewrite of "20 years later".

My favourite ones to reread are "The Book of Elements", "The Twin Suns of Basiliade", "Stay" and some scattered chapters of Ink and Blood (mostly in parts 2 and 3 - I'm not too fond of part 1) :)

#fanfiction writing #ao3 #ao3 writer #fanfiction #tumblr fanfic #fanfic #asks #fanficblr

[sardonic-the-writer]

Commissions are now open!!!!

I do personalized playlists and fics! Message me if you have any questions

https://ko-fi.com/sardonic

#commissions #writer #support #boost #boosting #writeblr #fanficblr #x reader #kofi

[sanyu-thewitch05]

The smut, noncon, and dubcon writers and readers worst fear

@duskymrel

#smut writers #noncon writers #dubcon writers #tiktok #fanficblr #writerblr

[newgh0ul]

Madness - Draco Malfoy x Reader - Part Two

Uncertainty riddled my thoughts as I boarded the Hogwarts Express. Hesitancy accented by body language, and slowed down every step I took. Everyone just seemed to know where to go, well...except for the first years. Here I was, older than the first years, looking just as lost and ridiculous.

Wondering down a hall, trying to find somewhere empty to sit, my body collides with someone. I look up, to see a boy with bright red hair standing over me. "Oh, bloody hell, are you alright?" He asks, and stretches out a hand to pull me up. I take his hand, and dust myself off. "Yeah, yeah, my ass broke my fall."

He chuckles, "Are you American?" My face beats up a bit and I awkwardly laugh, "That obvious?" He gives me a small nod. His pale skin can't hide the redness under his cheeks. "I'm Leah, I'm starting my fourth year." I give him my hand, and he eagerly shakes it, maybe a second too long. "Ron, I'm also a fourth year. I don't think I've seen you around here before-"

"I'm a transfer...from Ilvermony." I watch as the gears turn in his head, and he realizes why he's never seen me before. "I take it you don't have anyone to sit with?" He asks.

"What's that supposed to mean, Ron?" I tease.

"I-I just mean that...yknow you probably don't know anyone yet." He struggles through his embarrassment, I think it's sweet. "I was only joking." I tell him. He lets out a sigh of relief, and his shoulders slouch with the weight I've just taken off of him.

"Come sit with me and my friends, then." I take him up on his invite, following him to a carriage on the train.

There sat a boy with messy brown hair that framed his face, and circular glasses resting on his nose. He looked so familiar, but I just couldn't place my finger on it.

Next to him was a girl, with messy ginger hair, and a striking look on her face as I walked in. I wouldn't describe it as pleased, more like...challenged.

"That's Harry, and that's Hermione. This is Leah" He quickly introduced us all. Harry and Hermione looked equally confused as I took a seat, "Ron invited me to sit with you guys, it's nice to meet you." I smiled. The two gave me fake sweet smiles and a forced response.

An awkward tension hung over the carriage, I mostly spoke to Ron who was much more conversational than the other two. Hermione not-so-subtly glared daggers between Ron and I, her eyes peering over the newspaper she read. My aunt was reading the same one just this morning before she took me to King's Cross, but I forgot to ask about it.

'SCENES OF TERROR AT THE QUIDDITCH WORLD CUP' Headlined the page, hanging over a animated black-and-white photograph. I tried to make out what the picture was, some sort of skull and snake, I believe.

"So...what happened at the quidditch World Cup?" I decided to ask. Hermione lowered the paper, her lips still pursed and eyes steady on me.

"How do you not know? It's everywhere" She replied.

"I've had a busy summer, a little too preoccupied with moving to London."

"Surely you know about the Death Eaters and their attack?" Ron asks me, lowering his voice.

"No...no, I don't." I feel like I've just prodded at a sensitive topic, and even though Hermione and Harry aren't too warm to me, I hope I haven't just ruined my chance at being their friends.

"The Death Eaters attacked some muggles, and started a riot at the World Cup." Harry breaks his silence on the matter. As soon as he's done talking, he looks away, and focuses on the scenery outside of the window. I nod back, even though he's not even looking at me. There are no words that feel right to say right now. The air is suddenly heavy. Even Ron can't hide his look of disdain.

"Excuse me, I'm gonna go use the restroom." I stand to my feet, and exit the carriage. The heavy atmosphere seems to follow me, weighing me down. My heart aches for Ilvermony and for my friends there. I don't want to know any of these people, I don't want to start again. I want to go home. All I can think of is home.

As I reach the bathroom, the door swings open. Out steps a blonde boy, in a black suit. My spiraling stops as I realize he's the same boy from the book store. He stands there, and I decide to make the first move.

"Excuse me, how are these manners for you?" I spit as I shoulder check him as he did to me. Just as I grab the handle to the bathroom, and try to make my way inside, his hand latches around my arm. His grip is tight, and he inches closer to me. I can hear each breath he takes as he squeezes tighter.

"You should know your place, little American girl." He growls and lets go, shoving me back a little. I hit the doorframe and watch as he walks away.

I glance around to see if anyone saw, and to my luck, no one did. I shut the door behind me, and lock it. As soon as I hear the door lock, I start to cry.

I want to go home.

(word count: 920)

(this is being posted on Wattpad under the same name, along as the madness tag on my profile. I’m putting it on ao3 as soon as I get my invite. Enjoy <3)

#madness #my writing #ao3 #harry potter oc #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #hermione granger #ron weasley #ron weasley has a crush on you #draco malfoy #theodore nott #hogwarts express #draco x reader #draco malfoy x reader #golden trio #golden trio fanfiction #draco malfoy fanfiction #writeblr #fanficblr #ron weasley x reader #Harry Potter love triangle #Harry Potter slowburn #hogwarts fanfiction #hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry #ilvermony school of witchcraft and wizardry #hogwarts transfer #ollivanders #draco malfoy enemies to lovers #draco malfoy slowburn #slytherin

[anonymouse5]

I hate plot why can’t I just make OTP kiss :(

#ao3 fanfic #ao3 #ao3 writer #fanficblr #fanfic writing #fanfiction

[thequeenofthewinter]

Gorgeous gorgeous she/hers/he/hims/they/thems write gorgeous gorgeous fanfiction. ✨

#fanfiction #fanfiction writing #fanficblr #let’s go team #writing positivity

[naquey]

I also have to look at what is popular on each fanfiction site. People on Quotev eat up x reader/x OC stories, like how people on Tumblr greatly appreciate x reader things. On Wattpad, it's more so everything has been done before, and you run the risk of seeming like another cookie-cutter fic, but AO3 is reserved for character/character fics. Of course, you can write X Reader or X OC, but more people prefer to read slash fiction with the source material.

I could be completely wrong, but I observed that after scrolling through tags and fandoms.

Another factor is that the Nanbaka fandom will eat up any scraps they can find because no one writes fan content for them anymore. In comparison, the Harry Potter fandom has so much fan content that while it may take ages, all the niches have been covered.

#ao3 musings #ao3 writer #fanfiction #just my observations #quotev #wattpad #fanficblr #correct me if im wrong